


Smoke and Gun

by Draeesi



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6208417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draeesi/pseuds/Draeesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small Assassin's Creed Syndicate Fanfiction. Love between Jacob Frye and original OC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke and Gun

My boots touched the ground of the metal runway in the bustling train station. There was a single suitcase in my right hand and I flicked my hidden blade constantly in my left. It scared a few people on the way over, but I didn’t care. My feet made their way over to end of the platform and I took a light jump off. There was supposed to be another train here for me, somewhere. My eyes glanced around the tracks, eventually I just stepped over the one with my former train on it. There was a few in the distance that looked like they were just leaving. I dropped my case, sitting on top of it. 

“Great. First day here and I missed the train.” I growled and rested my chin on my palm. 

“We figured you would, love. That’s why I’m here. “A voice came from behind me, a very deep one at that. 

Without turning around a stood up from my bag. “Well, you obviously aren’t Miss Evie Frye by the sound of your voice. Must be the lesser twin, Jacob.” A smirk rose on my lips.

When I turned around, I was expecting to have my eye get caught on the infamous scarred eyebrow, but it noticed the red stripe around the black ball hat, Blighter. There was another man standing on either side of him. I sighed and placed my right hand on my hip, forgetting the case on the ground for a moment.

“That’s just the conformation we needed, love. Assassin I presume?” He gave an evil smile before snapping his fingers and his friends came towards me. 

The smirk stayed on my face as I connected my right fist with one’s boney chin. It hurt, but I didn’t have time to put knuckles on. My left hand moved down towards his abdomen and I flicked my blade out, adding more red to his attire. The one who spoke from earlier lunged at me with a cane. I lifted my armbrace up and blocked his attack, while I struck a blow into his stomach as well. It was a continuous circle of hits and counters while I watched them fall one by one. Eventually all that was left was the one who kept calling me love. I held my blade to his face, so the sun could hit it and send a shine into his eyes. 

“What gave you the impression that I was an Assassin? The blade?” I turned my wrist slightly, sliding the blade along his throat.  
I rose to my feet, throwing my hand out for a minute, blood flicking on the ground. 

“My guess is your Miss Graceland Williams? “ I heard another deep voice.

I left my blade out and was about strike them when realization hit me. How did they know my name? I relaxed for a moment and sheathed my blade.  
“Hello Mr. Frye. “ I turned to him and lowered my hood, while sticking my hand out to shake his. 

He took it and lifted it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss. “Please, call me Jacob, Miss Williams.” 

I rolled me eyes and retracted my hand, reaching for my belongings as well. “Please, call me Grace.” 

Jacob walked closer to me and grabbed my bag. “Anyone every call you Gracie, love?” 

“No, anyone who has, had the idea beaten from them. I hate the nickname.” I cracked my knuckles as a threat to him.

“Well I will keep that in mine, Gracie.” I could heard the chuckle in his tone.

My steps kept pace with ease as we headed from the station to the street. There was a man sitting on a carriage in green. Jacob opened the side door and threw my bag on the left seat. His climbed in quickly and left me to get in myself. So much for English manners, I thought. I stepped up as well and closed the door, before I could sit down, the carriage lurked forward, sending me into Jacob’s chest. His hands gripped my waist.

“That’s one way to say thanks, Miss Gracie.” He smirked with a challenging gaze. 

I scoffed and moved away from him, but his grasp held me in place. I pulled his arms away and slumped back in the seat across from him, next to my bag. “More like you need better coachmen. “ 

A deep chuckled rumbled in his chest and he crossed him arms. “Whatever you say, love.” He moved himself to stretch out on the whole seat, tipping his hat over his eyes. “Better get comfy dear, gonna be a long ride.” 

I sighed and moved my bag to the floor, mimicking him. He wasn’t kidding. We were still on the road even after the sun had gone down. I couldn’t sleep with the constant rocking of the carriage, and Jacob’s snoring. Eventually I just sat back up and leaned on the side, looking out the window. 

This was only the second time I left the country. My father insisted that I would go, get out the America as tensions were brewing even after the war had ended. He was a main commander, right behind Major General John Buford, till he passed of what they thought was typhoid fever. Then my father was pushed back in the ranks, and was able to come back home to us when the war was done. He brought some interesting things back, even a horse for me and my sister to share. 

He became nervous, with the murder of President Lincoln, and felt that we needed to learn to protect ourselves. During the war he had run into a man who lived in northern Massachusetts and spoke of a deadly type of defensive fighting, and invited my father to come by after the war. This was the first I heard of the Brotherhood. We all moved there and every day I would go to this man’s house and trained constantly. I became very good and achieved higher honors in the creed. 

Once I turned 18, I had finished my training, which was rare. The anger and violence between south and the north remained and it still worried my father, so he sent me away. I went to Ireland, where my mother came from, and lived there for a year. It was boring, being that it was under the control of the British and there wasn’t much work to be done. I left and came back home to my father. He again wanted me to leave and had gotten word of a small group in London. I wrote to them, the Frye twins, and heard back instantly.  
So here I am, age nineteen and sitting in a carriage on the dark streets of London. There was a gentle halt of the carriage, which paused for too long. I figured we were here and just as I was about to stand up, the whole thing lurked to the side. I held onto the seat as Jacob crashed to the ground, releasing curses left and right.  
“What the bloody hell is going on?” He yelled and straightened his hat. 

All of a sudden the carriage lurched forward at a fast pace. I quickly threw open the door and clung onto the bars of the cart. I made my way to the driver’s seat, only to find reins tied to the post, but they were cut halfway down, letting the spooked horse gallop ahead. With a quick leap, I balanced my feet on the edge of the harness.  
“What are you doing Graceland! You’re going to get hurt!” I turned to see Jacob holding tight to the side of the car.

I grasped the rear end of the straps and pulled towards me, letting my body go forward and land on the horse’s back. It had been a little while since I had ridden, let alone bareback, but I was able to stay balanced. My hands snaked up the steed’s neck and found the torn leather. With a slight tug, I was able to slow the horse to an easy stop. After the last step and turned to Jacob. 

“Father was in the Calvary, I know what I’m doing.” I snapped at him. “Where’s base. I’ll drive there.”

“From the back of that animal? Don’t be rash! Here let’s just go find another car. It will be safer. “ He glared at me with concern.

I rubbed my hand on the sweaty chestnut neck in front of me. The steed looked like General Jackson’s horse, Little Sorrel. A smile creeped on my lips. 

“No. I like the horse, so he’s coming back to your place. Tell me the way. “ I waited for an answer, but nothing came.

When I looked at him again, he was slumped in the top seat and was pointing to the left.“It’s down that road a bit, not that far. “

I gave a chuckled and clicked the horse into a light gallop.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want more, please give Kudos or comments!!!!


End file.
